Legacy
by Unforgettable Green Eyes
Summary: When all hope seemed lost, a chance encounter with one whose life was inextricably linked with his own would set him on the right path. Features an OC. CloudXAeris.


_**Legacy**_

"Get up."

He lies in the dirt, barely conscious, unable to register anything let alone yet another voice telling him what to do. And orders from a young child no less, judging from the high-pitch sound of the voice.

"Grandma? I want Mommy."

He hears the murmur of another voice, too low for him to make out, before the first voice comes back again to pester him.

"Come on, come on, get up! Please! You're almost there."

With the last of the strength he hadn't known was still left in him, Cloud forces his eyes open, ready to tell the kid off and leave him to die in peace. But his vision is hazy and everything appears to be in distorted, fluttering shades of pink before it hits him that the color is coming from the petals raining in the light that surrounds the toddler leaning over him, peering into his face from less than an inch away. A peculiar fragrance enters his nostrils, the smell of blossoms and a hint of cherries in the air, followed by the stranger sensation of some kind of buzzing through his body, faint but slowly building.

"Can you get up now, Daddy? I'm out. I can't do it anymore."

An angel.

"Ang…" Wait a minute, he thinks in confusion. _He_ wouldn't have a guardian angel.

Also he can see now that the light is from the sun setting at the boy's back and there is no sign whatsoever of flowers, pink or otherwise, anywhere.

Something about the boy strikes him as oddly familiar and Cloud frowns, trying to put his thoughts into some semblance of order. He's seen him before, in old photographs, three or four that his mother had managed to salvage from their house years ago when the Heartless had first come to their homeworld. She'd thrust them into his hands along with the ring she'd torn off from her finger before she set him on the only remaining ship still in port with the other children and bade him find the others, and that was the last time he'd seen her.

And that hair. There is no mistaking that hair. He's looking at his own face as a child.

Cloud shakes his head groggily, still trying to make some sense of the disorder in his head. Could it possibly be…? Had the existence of the Heartless and the resulting chaos that came from their tampering with space and time somehow caused the universe to become so unstable that worlds and time itself had collided and bled into one another? Except that's not quite it. Something about the kid is reminiscent of someone else he'd known, and it's not him. Whatever it is, his younger self speaks before he can put his finger on it.

"Come on, Daddy."

Great. So he'd always been confused and his daddy issues had started at a young age. It's a bit disconcerting not to be able to remember going around calling random strangers "Daddy", and his own future self as it were, but admittedly, there are more gaps in his memories than a fishing net has holes.

"Mommy's waiting. She's close by."

His heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing his mother again only for his shoulders to drop right back down. Would she recognize him, her only son, as a full grown adult? What would she say or do? What would she think of the man he has become? Would she be disappointed? Or would she understand? Before his thoughts can really begin spiraling downward into despair as they tend to, he turns his attention to the more pressing matter facing him at the moment.

"Listen, I am not your—" he stops himself, unsure as to whether it's a smart move to get this version of himself upset. Had he been prone to throwing temper tantrums? He wishes he could remember. Regardless, it's clear his next objective is to take his younger self back to his mother and the last thing he needs is a screaming, crying child on his hands when he doesn't think he can even lift a finger.

Cloud's frown deepens as another thought occurs to him. His memories aren't exactly what he'd call reliable, but he's quite certain his father had had dark hair, if his fuzzy recollections of his childhood hold any truth to them. That's one of the few things he's always known, isn't it? And he can't recall a single instance when his mother would let him out of her sight if she thought there was even the slightest chance he could come to harm.

"Daddy, they're coming out." There is a note of fear in the boy's voice and something inside of Cloud reacts instinctively to it, bringing his meandering thoughts to an abrupt halt as he is faced with more immediate concerns. He opens the eyes he hadn't realized had closed again and sees that the kid is now staring straight ahead over him, eyes wide.

"Who's coming?" he asks.

"The black things."

The black…

"Aw, hell—" he starts to curse but cuts himself off again, glad that the boy's eyes remain fixed on the vicinity of the town gates. He doesn't know how he manages it but he lunges to his feet, sword firmly in hand, and turns his head in the direction that the boy is looking. Something has, indeed, materialized from thin air within the black shadows of the two buildings whose lights are broken and he knows at a glance that there has to be a dozen or more of the creatures moving in the darkness. He'd assumed he'd dealt with the last group just outside the gates and would be given a brief respite until he was able to hit a shop for some for some supplies but apparently the reinforcements have decided not to waste any time.

"Daddy, they're scary." The boy shivers and edges closer to Cloud, almost as if he wants to burrow into his side. "I don't like them."

Those two short sentences give rise to a host of other feelings that Cloud hadn't realized he'd had in him and adrenaline surges through his veins. "It's all right." His voice is cold with fury and his eyes narrowed slits of blue fire as he glares at the multiple pairs of insidious yellow dots glowing from the darkness. The hostility in his voice is perhaps stronger than he'd realized as he feels the boy's eyes on him. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he says, trying to gentle his tone. He reaches down stiffly and gives the boy a resounding thwack on his back that nearly sends him forward to plant his face in the dirt. "Sorry," he mutters, taking his hand back. "I'm here. I won't let them hurt you."

"I know, Daddy." The boy gives him a huge smile, his eyes shining with such pride and admiration and something else he can't quite figure out, Cloud feels a little self-conscious and slightly worried that he'll disappoint him somehow.

"Stay back," he orders the toddler, not really expecting to be obeyed. But to his surprise, the boy moves back a few paces into the lights of a storefront that are already lit and clasps his hands behind his back, looking up at him like he's some sort of hero. Perhaps not as young as Cloud had thought then, but still far too young to be out and about on his own. "I'll make this quick."

"Right here, Daddy?"

Cloud scratches his head. That right there, the way the boy is standing and that look of complete trust on his face, niggles at the back of his mind but he doesn't have time to ponder why that is. He doesn't want the Heartless to make it past the buildings where they'd been birthed.

"Yeah, right there. Stay in the light, and call out if one gets near you," he says, striding forward quickly to meet the damned things again. Not that he'd let any slip by him, he thinks grimly, letting his rage and hatred pour forth unchecked in his face. Those pesky ants will have to go through him and the gods help anything that would think to harm one strand of hair on that little boy's head. Cloud doesn't know much, not even about himself, but he does know one thing: this innocent child is to be protected at all costs. Nothing and no one is allowed to frighten him.

His blood boiling, he flies headfirst into the mass of swarming, relentless black hunger, and with a snarl, swings his massive sword in a wide arc that slices clean through the first wave of bodies coming at him, stopping them in their tracks. Before they even realize what has happened, Cloud whips his sword about him again, and as multiple limbs and bodies fall away, launches himself at the new ones that have surrounded him. He lets loose the full force of his wrath on the Heartless, making swift work of the Shadows and Neo-Shadows as he cuts through the horde with a kind of deadly calm and chilling efficiency that the lord of the underworld would've wept with joy to see unleashed upon his enemies. Landing deftly on his feet one last time, he slams a shadowy form back with a grunt and spins about, and his sword flashes streaks of silver as he runs it through the remaining Heartless.

"That the best you can do?" he says in disgust as the last body disappears in a puff of smoke before its various parts have fully detached where the blade had cleaved it. "Pathetic." Not a single one of the creatures had made it past a foot of the buildings where they'd sprung from the darkness. He swings his sword back behind him and goes back to where the slight figure is waiting patiently in the lights, as promised.

"You okay?" His breathing is a little hard from that last bout, but he is amazed he is still on his feet at all considering his state.

The boy dashes forward and throws his arms around Cloud's legs. "You did it, Daddy!"

Now that the adrenaline rush has passed, he feels more tired than ever, but the overwhelming need to protect the boy still burns inside of him and would not let him be. He pushes aside his usual stiffness and pats the boy's head as awkwardly as he had before but more gently. If he'd had the energy, he would laugh. Apparently all it takes is for a slip of a boy no bigger than his thumb to call him "Daddy" and he is putty in a pair of hands that probably couldn't lift more than the box of cereal he'd likely had for breakfast this morning. If Hades could see you now, Cloud Strife, he thinks in self-derision. He'd take you, his chosen fighter to take out the mighty Hercules, for a puddle of melted wax and he wouldn't be too far off.

"Let's go see Mommy now." He reaches up and takes Cloud's hand without his permission and leads him down the street.

Right. He'd said something about his mother waiting. As they turn a corner, the boy's hair catches the fading sunlight and something glints around his neck, hitting Cloud's eyes right in a sensitive spot and he glances away. The hand clutching his tugs harder, as though he is eager to get back to his mother. Cloud has his reservations about a woman who would let her young child wander off by himself with Heartless roaming the streets, but the irony that he is questioning someone else's sense of responsibility doesn't escape him. He'd best just take the kid to his mother and leave the parenting to her, he decides. The sooner they find her, the sooner he can get to a shop and stock up on some supplies before heading on out of there.

They turn another corner and see a row of shops, among which is an items shop. Either the boy knows Cloud is in dire need of some potions and ethers or his mother works there.

"Mommy will take care of you now. She's been waiting a long time."

The boy stops and Cloud slumps against the building.

He hears a gasp and looks up to see a young woman standing just up ahead on the sidewalk, clutching a lamppost as if she's just seen a ghost.

He stares at her, equally shocked. She does not have blond hair as he was sure she would but…

"It _is_ you."

_Her_, he thinks in bewilderment. But how can that be? What is she doing here?

She is the one person he has always wanted to see...and the last one he expected to ever lay eyes on again. The one person he has never been able to forget even though time and war and Hades have done their best to wipe out his memories of her and her features have become blurry, and it is with a sudden pang that he realizes how much she's grown. While time has not been favorable to him, the years have been more kind to her. The pretty girl he'd fallen in love with so long ago has become a heartbreakingly beautiful young woman, the brown hair she liked to wear in a long braid hanging down to her hips now, and her eyes greener than he'd remembered. She is petite and slender, with a small, heart-shaped face and cheeks that are more defined and hollow than they used to be.

How many years has it been since they last saw each other and how much has he missed? How much has she changed? He can only imagine all the things she's seen and done, the places she's been, what she's been through. And now this… To come face to face with her when it is too late, when he's given up, when he's sold his soul…

Aeris, he thinks with gut-wrenching sadness as he stares at her face, made lovelier still by the happiness radiating from her. Why? Why now? Why here? He must have passed through a hundred worlds and never seen any sign of her, or any of the others for that matter. He would damn himself a thousand, a million, times over, but Hades has already done that for him.

_Aeris._

Could it be she was the boy's mother…? But no, she hasn't even glanced at him.

Too ashamed and beaten to be able to continue meeting her gaze head on, he averts his eyes and finally finds his voice. "I have to take him to his mother."

"You look like you've been through hell." The unexpected reply has Cloud lifting his face back up to hers.

If only she knew. There are so many things he wants to tell her, but where would he even start? But looking into her eyes, he can almost believe she already does know everything he has to tell her. Does she know he'd finally come to terms with never seeing her again? he wonders. Can she possibly know he'd finally forced himself to stop thinking about her, to stop searching, to stop wishing for something that could never be?

"Cloud..." Her voice has matured as well; it is huskier, richer, but still soft and feminine. "How have you been?"

He hears another question in there, one she has left unspoken: _Where_ have you been? Unable to answer either one, he again tries to focus on the task at hand in an effort to avoid the guilt consuming him. He looks down at where the little boy is standing quietly at his side, and his heart almost stops.

The boy is gone.

Sudden panic seizes him as his eyes dart wildly about, searching frantically, more frightened for the kid than he has ever been for himself.

"He was just right here," he mutters, more to himself than to her, as his wing opens and he prepares to hurtle himself into the air but her voice gives him pause.

"I knew if I could just be patient, you'd be here and last night after years and years of hoping and praying... Oh, Cloud." Her voice breaks, and he sees her blinking back tears. "He came to me. And I knew right away who he was."

What in the world was she talking about? he wonders in bewilderment, torn between the need to comfort her and finding the child.

"He told me you would come here. I've been waiting here since this morning, before the shops opened," she continues unsteadily. "There was never any doubt in my mind he was speaking the truth."

"Who?" Cloud is more confused than ever.

Something at her throat sparkles under the light, drawing Cloud's eyes, and his gaze freezes upon the object she wears looped through a slender chain around her neck. An object he thinks he'd caught a glimpse of just moments ago…and which he'd never thought to see again after all this time.

"An angel." Her voice is tender and loving, and in a universe where the gentler emotions have become rarer than a world without Heartless, it brings Cloud's attention back to her face. Aeris smiles, her face aglow with happiness and wonder. Amazing. Her eyes really do light up as he always swore they did. And it suddenly hits Cloud what it was about the boy that had unsettled him. He'd had the same eyes as the ones staring back at him now. "Our angel."

* * *

Big green eyes slowly open, not at all surprised to find his father squeezed into his narrow bed beside him, sharing his pillow, his arms encircling him as he slept. The sweet aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the open doorway from the kitchen downstairs but anyone can see that the happiness in the small face has little to do with knowing that his mother is preparing his favorite dish and everything to do with the man holding him.

"Hi, Daddy." He smiles sleepily. "You're home."

"Hey, buddy," Cloud says softly. "You had a good nap?"

His son gives a great big yawn as he stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, and nods in contentment.

"I saw you, Daddy."

Cloud grins. "I see you too, son."

He shakes his head. "No, Daddy." Cloud stifles a laugh as he observes how the pointed ends of the child's hair barely move. "I saw you. Just now. You were hurt."

"I haven't been hurt…" Cloud starts to say, but the little boy has sat up and is looking and feeling his hands over his father's shoulders and back.

"I saw your wing too, Daddy, when you were fighting the black things."

Maybe he needs a nap too, he thinks. That extra hour under the heat of the sun must have fried his brains because his son isn't making much sense to him today.

Unable to find any evidence of a wing, he lies back down again and curls himself against his father's chest.

"I don't have the wing anymore," Cloud tells him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "I lost it a long time ago, remember? Before you were born. You must have been dreaming."

"Yes, Daddy," he says dutifully. "But you're okay now, right, Daddy?" He tilts his face up, and touches a small hand to Cloud's cheek. "Mommy was waiting for you. She took care of you."

Cloud's hand pauses above his son's spine and his eyes widen. He lowers his eyes to the silver chain that Aeris had slipped off of her neck and placed around their young son's not two weeks ago on his fourth birthday. As the dots connect, Cloud can only shake his head in wonder. How had she known when to give it…? Foolish question, he chides himself. This is Aeris.

"It's time," she'd murmured on that day as she'd bent over the small boy she'd sat down in a chair and carefully fastened the clasp at the back of his neck.

At the time, Cloud had been puzzling over the new set of train tracks the youngest Strife had received earlier from Cid and his family, which Cloud had fitted together in such a way that it ran diagonally from one side of the living room to the other instead of in a figure eight loop as the picture on the box had shown. The birthday boy, unsurprisingly, had had no interest in the necklace his mother was fussing over and had been looking up at his father who'd built his tracks wrong with hero worship in his eyes.

As he stood there, running his hands through his hair and trying to be man enough to swallow his pride and admit that perhaps he should've read the instructions that came with the toy, or more importantly, followed them, Aeris lifted their son into her arms and moved to stand beside him.

"Maybe I should've listened to Cid," he said with a grimace. He and the pilot had butted heads over whose way was the right way to build the tracks before the other man had stormed off cursing under his breath.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Aeris answered with a laugh as he felt her slip something into his hand. Glancing down he saw that it was the instruction manual he'd tossed out with the packaging and which she'd rescued from the pile of discarded styrofoam and cardboard when she was cleaning up after the guests had left. She skimmed her fingers lightly across the ring that she'd looked after for him all these years and her hand gave a sudden involuntary jerk against their son's shirt. "I'm afraid to put it off any longer or we run the risk of changing everything. And it was always meant to be his. I was only carrying it for him." She hugged the little boy closer to her and kissed the top of his head. "Please. Let everything be all right." Her eyes closed and she finished in a hoarse whisper, "Watch over them both and bring them safely back home to me."

Relieved that he wouldn't have to go digging through the trash and he'd be able to show up Cid after all, Cloud had given little thought to his wife's strange choice of words and simply assumed she'd been referring to her fear about a necklace being a choking hazard for a young child.

But Cloud knows now that wasn't the only thing she'd meant.

"Yes," he says slowly. It all comes rushing back to him, clearer than they have ever been, memories of that day when he'd all but given up on everything, when he first saw the little boy who would save his life and save him. "Mommy took care of me." The wedding band over his son's heart gleams in the lamplight, shining as brightly as it had on that fateful afternoon when his mother had placed it into his safekeeping and in the back of his mind he hears a woman's desperate plea, the first faint echoes of a long-ago wish that it would protect her child from harm. Cloud traces his finger around the sapphire stone his mother had once told him was just like his father's eyes, and his, when he himself was just a young boy, and looks up into the glowing green ones of his own loving child. Even when he'd walked in darkness and had wallowed in the deepest pits of hell, he'd had angels watching over him. "You took care of me, Angel."

"Always, Daddy."

* * *

**Note:** The character of Angel is clearly mine and he appears in another one of my CXA stories. Strangely enough, whenever I've tried to picture Cloud and Aeris having a baby, it has never been the more obvious choice of Sora and/or Roxas, but always a blond, green-eyed child. And so I made him up and wrote him into one of my stories. But...I always felt there was more to his story to tell and I wasn't quite finished with him yet. This little fanfic was intended to tell some of that story. It was originally supposed to be done in three parts, but as slow a writer as I am, I figured I should just try to keep it to a one-shot. Unfortunately, that meant compromising when it came to deciding which scenes were unnecessary versus which ones were crucial in telling the story. Which meant some CXA moments didn't make the final cut but...who knows. Maybe someday, I'll pick up this story again (and Angel's) and write up the other parts and include the missing CXA scenes.


End file.
